Change of Pace
by Yoru No Grim
Summary: For gambling, alcohol, and too much innuendo. Garet has a crush on Mia. But will she return his feelings?


8BTFreek: Well, it's that time of the season. With Nynaeve jumping down my throat and reviewers (well, a reviewer) demanding that I update from a cliffie, it's time to write the new fic!  
  
Nynaeve: Less talkie, more typie!  
  
8BTFreek: *gulp* Right. Anyway, let's get on with it! This is my one-shot based on "Only the Good Die Young" by Billy Joel. It's semi-important to me. I like it, and it's my explanation of Steamshipping.  
  
Nynaeve: I thought I asked you to shut your yap and move your fingers!  
  
8BTFreek: *gulp...again* Okay, Aes Sedai. I'm writing, I'm writing! Let me go! Let me write! Or I'll have Alex do the disclaimer!  
  
Nynaeve: Good. Now then, here's the disclaimer: 8BTFreek doesn't own "Only the Good Die Young" or Golden Sun, although he wished he did, I'm sure. At least, that's what his dreams in Tel'aran'rhiod say. As well as...  
  
8BTFreek: Dammit, I grabbed you with the ring, didn't I? And don't reveal my dreams to the FFNet community, they're personal! Oh well, on with the fic.  
  
**Change of Pace**  
  
Isaac was sitting in one corner of the pub in Kalay, downing ale with Ivan. Ivan had ordered something non-alcoholic; the kid was only fifteen. His eyes glanced up at Garet. He was pacing in the corner. Thinking was an art to that one, and he was stubborn as a mule. Too bad he wasn't as smart as one. That would have made things easier. Garet nodded to himself, then walked over to Mia. {It can't be... Can it?} Isaac blinked, then poked Ivan with his elbow. "Say, Ivan. I got a bet for you, but you can't use your future sight ability or anything, okay?"  
  
"Yeah, sure, whatever. What's the bet?" Ivan's head came up. He had been sleeping on the tabletop. "Is it something you think is a sure thing?"  
  
"Why else would I bet? Anyway, I bet that before the night is through, Garet and Mia will be sharing a room."  
  
"I can get you good odds on that. Mia's from Imil, and you know what they're like up there."  
  
{Yeah, they're chaste as bricks, but attractive as angels.} "Still, I bet Garet and Mia share a room before the night's out, it's a single-bed room, and nobody winds up sleeping on the floor."  
  
"You're on. Fifty coins says you're wrong."  
  
***  
  
Garet walked over to her. The blue-haired angel was just sitting there. Slowly, he sat down beside her. "Hi, Mia." She looked at him, then blushed.  
  
"Hi," she said back. Her voice was shy, and a touch embarrassed. "Um, what do you want?"  
  
"I'd just like to get to know you." His voice was strained, almost as if he could barely wait. {Just gotta get her to trust me...} "So, uh... I'm guessing that Mia's just a nickname or something?"  
  
"How'd you guess?" She looked a bit surprised. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter."  
  
"So, what's your real name?" He sounded like he was being pushy, but she didn't seem to mind.  
  
"Amelja. I call myself Mia because it's easier to say."  
  
"Amelja... That's a beautiful name. It has a nice ring to it. Amelja." She blushed even deeper. Apparently, her name wasn't something she liked to talk about. "Sorry. Say, would you like a dance?" She nodded, getting up. "Just a minute." He strode over to the musicians, whispered to them, and tossed them a few coins. Over in the corner, Isaac raised Ivan thirty, and Ivan called his bet. They struck up an upbeat tune, and soon everyone was dancing along-except for Isaac and Ivan, of course. Their eyes were focused on Garet and Mia. Garet began singing.  
  
"What did I tell you? She'll be his before nightfall."  
  
"I raise the pot." Ivan's drink had probably been spiked, because he didn't usually bet like that.  
  
Isaac called the bet, then turned the attention back to Garet. He had begun singing, and the words were drifting.  
  
"Come out, Amelja, don't let me wait. You Imilan girls start much too late. But sooner or later it comes down to fate; I might as well be the one." She looked at him, confusion printed clearly on her face. Ivan raised Isaac another thirty. "Well, they showed you a statue and told you to pray, they built you a temple and locked you away. But they never told you the price that you'd pay for things that you might have done; only the good die young." He tried to put his arm around her. She actually liked it at first. Then she realized that he had his arm around her, grew wild-eyed, and backed off. Shrugging his shoulders, he beckoned for her to come back. She warily did.  
  
"Ivan, you know you're going to lose. Just admit it. If Mia had been her normal self, she never would have even gotten up to dance. And I know for a fact that her drink isn't spiked, if that's what you're thinking. Garet's an honest guy, and he'd never get a girl if she didn't know what she was doing. That's just not his nature." Ivan hushed him, raised him ten, and pointed back to Garet, who had just begun singing.  
  
"You might've heard I run with a dangerous crowd. We ain't too pretty, we ain't too proud, we might be laughin' a bit too loud, but that never hurt no one. So come on, Amelja, show me a sign! Send up a signal, I'll throw you a line. The stained-glass curtain you're hidin' behind never lets in the sun, an' darlin' only the good die young!" At her incredulous stare, he added, "That's what I said."  
  
She repeated him. "Only the good die young?" He nodded. Then, making a little stab at conversation, he took her off the dance floor. That didn't mean he stopped singing, though. No, he used the bass voice life had given him for all it was worth.  
  
"You got a nice white dress and a party on your confirmation." She nodded. "You got a brand new soul and a cross of gold." She nodded again, pulling out the small golden cross. "But Amelja, they didn't give you quite enough information." Now it was her turn to look puzzled. "You didn't count on me when you were countin' on your rosary." She shook her head. "Well they say there's a heaven for those who will wait. Some say it's better, but I say it ain't. I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints; the sinners are much more fun. You know that only the good die young!" She thought about it for a moment, then slowly nodded.  
  
"I guess you're right. Say, you're a good dancer!" She was surprised at his quick footwork-being clumsy didn't usually lend itself to dancing. In fact, he hadn't danced much with her during the first few minutes. He had mainly been singing, but the musicians were now entering a solo section. "Where did you learn to dance?"  
  
"I just picked it up. You learn things when you travel around: singing, playing instruments, telling tales, and..." He paused for a moment. "Dancing, of course. It's one of the ways to get a cheap night at the inn-provide some entertainment." He shook his head. Then, slowly, he moved closer to her. She didn't shy away this time. She just danced along. He tried spinning her once or twice, and she was thrilled. They went back to dancing, but his voice began echoing again. "Well, your mother told you the only thing I could give you was a reputation. She never cared for me, but did she ever say a prayer for me? Come out, come out, come out, Amelja, don't lemme wait. You Imilan girls start much too late, but sooner or later it comes down to fate. I might as well be the one. You know that only the good die young!" The band continued playing into the night, just repeating that one song. Garet didn't continue singing, though. He stayed close to her, dancing a quick two-step, and she followed. They talked a while, then left the dance floor. Isaac raised Ivan three, and Ivan called the bet. "Can we get a room?" Garet whispered to the man at the desk. He nodded, then asked the number of beds.  
  
Mia giggled. "Just one." There was an unspoken "live dangerously" hidden in there. The man nodded, then named the price. Garet dropped the coins into the man's outstretched fist, and took Mia up the stairs.  
  
***  
  
Isaac put the coins into a third bag. "Now then, Mind Read Mia in the morning, see what her memories of the night before are, and tell me. No lying, or we'll see how well you can laugh with a sword sticking through your stomach." Ivan nodded. He'd had no intention of lying, but he had every intention of grabbing what he thought were his winnings.  
  
The next morning, the four of them met in the lobby. While Mia's back was turned, Ivan read her mind. As he found memories of the night before, he began blushing. By the time he walked over to Isaac, his face was a very nice shade of crimson. Isaac just laughed. He handed half of the coins in the bag to Ivan. "That's okay, keep your coins. Back in Vale, we used to joke that there wasn't a girl on Angara who could resist Garet when he tried to be charming, he could have told you that." He grabbed the pile of coins, counted out his share, then dropped them in his gold purse. "Oh, and Ivan... How about tonight? Want to wager on this evening?" Ivan shook his head. Isaac broke out into laughter. Garet looked at him.  
  
"What are you laughing about?" He walked over to the two. Isaac still had the third bag. "Gambling, were we? Well, I'm not going to overlook it this time. Whichever one of you won, that one gives back his winnings."  
  
"Wasn't laughing about that, doofus. You explain, Ivan."  
  
"Yeah, Isaac gave me the coins back. Just a friendly little wager we had."  
  
"About what?" Garet's tone was normal, but he looked like he could have chewed steel. He most likely would be chewing on Ivan's ear if he found out what they had been betting on.  
  
"I bet you sounded like a frog." Garet laughed. Ivan wiped his glove across his brow as Garet walked away. "That was close," he muttered out of the side of his mouth.  
  
"And you know it. Come on, let's catch up to the others."  
  
***  
  
Freek: Well, that's my fifth one-shot. Let's see, I'm up to... Seven stories! Woo-hoo!  
  
Nynaeve: And you'd better start working on the new chapter of Forms, or...  
  
Freek: O_O I'm not getting involved with this. I'll start working on Forms again.  
  
Nynaeve: Good. *Turns to readers* Now then, you lot review, or I'll be forced to...  
  
Freek: Some things are better left unsaid. Nyanaeve Sedai, please don't hurt my reviewers!  
  
Nynaeve: There won't be any if they aren't given a good threat!  
  
Freek: Yes, there will be. Trust me.  
  
Nynaeve: Still... Just review, or face the wrath of an angry Aes Sedai! 


End file.
